


Changing Like the Seasons

by Spinninginthedark



Category: The Dolan Twins, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ethan Dolan/Grayson Dolan - Freeform, Grayson Dolan/Ethan Dolan, Grethan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinninginthedark/pseuds/Spinninginthedark
Summary: Ethan can see the changes take place after, even if he doesn’t want to see them. Look for them. It’s hard to miss, though. Grayson isn’t exactly subtle.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting! Had an account a couple of years ago but lost the login. There is some magical realism in here. Please do not read if you find it offensive. 
> 
> Also, warnings of dubious consent at one point since the character is under the influence. This is a fuck-or-die fic, so please click back if it’s not your cup of tea. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please comment to let me know your thoughts. :)

 

They don’t plan on doing another 4OU tour during the Summer, but it kind of happens anyway. After their dad passed away earlier in the year, things have been feeling off and there is a balance and equilibrium that they cannot find for the longest time.

Ethan tries everything to shake it off and keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other, but it’s super hard. There is a void in him that expands and contracts of its own volition - some days the pain of the loss is too much and he can’t leave the house, much less get out of bed.

Other days it’s him and Grayson doing stupid shit and laughing themselves sick in front of the camera. It hits at strange times, in waves. So when Grayson suggests doing another 4OU tour, face drawn tight and kind of agitated and vibrating out of his skin, Ethan says okay.

He doesn’t know if he wants to get away as bad as Gray does, but it’s close. Some change and the open road will be good for them and at clearing their heads. They might even get some sick content from it for their channel. It can’t hurt.

They’ve got 12 cities to hit in two months, and Ethan can almost taste the rush of it in his bones, buzzing through his skin, the manic anticipation. It’s kind of like running away and ignoring the elephant in the room, but only for a little bit.

Something quiet and desperate in him tells him that it’s a bad idea, though, that they should cancel and not do it, but he ignores it. If it’s his intuition again trying to steer him in the right direction - it’s usually only 50/50 depending on how messed up he feels - instead of his emotions trying to sabotage him, then he’ll face all of it when the time comes.

It does not make the strange tightness in his chest go away, though, but Ethan can’t tell the difference between grief and guidance anymore. It’s all just some kind of messy blur, one thing morphing into the other.

Grayson would probably be able to help him with figuring it out, but he’s kind of lost in his own headspace and they don’t really have to share every little thing with each other.

Not everything.

*

They’re just on their fifth stop on the trip, in Philly, when Ethan gets backhanded with the confirmation that it was intuition all along telling them not to go. Shit.

Their managers and even their crew have warned them about all kinds of potential dangers that celebrities can face, but it still doesn’t mean that Ethan thought any of it would happen to them. He doesn’t even think they’re big enough for any of that drama, honestly.

They’ve got people to watch out for them, have their backs, so any thoughts of kidnapping, getting shot, ransoms, or even getting drugged, feels like a stretch of the imagination. Ethan thought it was all worst case scenario stuff and kind of wanted to scoff when they were getting those lectures and sitting through the overviews of getting drugged by various potions (more popular these days than street drugs) and their consequences.

Gray and he have never messed with the more magical realm of drugs before, since it always sounded too creepy to even contemplate. But thanks to his team - and Cameron and his mom - Ethan feels like he knows a few things.

The Foreverare potion smells sweet and is the color of light yellow but turns black in a drink. If ingested, you need to have a professional on staff administer the counter potion, or else your memories will be wiped going back as far as six months.

The Amorada potion is the love spell, and if the counter potion is not administered within the hour after being the recipient of it, you then forcibly fall in love with the spell caster. It can be broken, but only by the best potions masters. And those guys are hard to reach and tend to live far away, in remote places, or work in the hospitals like normal people making an actual difference.

They’re not traveling around with some Youtube weirdos going to fan conventions for two months and being bored out of their freaking minds.

So not having a professional potions master on staff is something that their managers agreed to reluctantly, but they did force one more bodyguard to monitor them at all events, and even their fan mail. Which is a bit much, but what does Ethan know.

A new guy on their crew - Robbin - is tasked with doing some tedious shit like going through the gifts they get and their mail on tour in order to spot potential hazards before passing it along to them. Robbin’s leaving their room after a brief chat when he spots a group of girls in the hallway - probably no more than 16 year olds tops - trying to be sneaky and making their way to their hotel rooms with a definite lack of stealth and much giggling.

Ethan peeks outside their room and waves when he hears Robbin telling them to go and not disturb them.They shriek when they see him, and he chuckles and heads back in, but not before snagging the huge stuffed teddy bear and the envelope that Robbin is struggling to hold.

“I’ll give the bear to Gray, thanks girls. Reminds me of him,” Ethan says, before pulling away, but one of the girls looks slightly panicked and asks, “Can I give the gifts to him instead? Please? Just one minute with you guys, that’s all we want.”

Ethan knows that Gray would kill him if he invited the three of them in, so he tries to be apologetic and says, “Sorry, but I think he’s sleeping. He’d be super upset if his beauty rest was disturbed.” He’s about to shut the door when he hears Robbin tell him directly, “Don’t touch or open any of those items until I take a look at them.” He’s monitoring the girls down the hallway and towards the elevators. Ethan closes the door. He thinks he hears two of the girls start crying and begging to meet Gray, but then they move further away. Ethan shrugs.

Gray is chilling in his bed in sweats and a tank top when Ethan launches the teddy bear at him. He yelps and glares at Ethan, phone having flown out of his hand, before he situates the bear next to him so that he can rest his head on its massive shoulder. “What are we going to do with this thing? It’s huge,” Gray says around a yawn. Ethan throws the envelope marked with their names in cursive writing on his nightstand and heads to his own bed, collapsing on top of it. He’s exhausted.

“Maybe donate it to a children’s hospital here before we head out. There’s no way that we can take that thing around with us, on the flights. They’d charge us for a seat.” He doesn’t see that Grayson has opened the envelope until Grayson sneezes and the paper flutters out of his hands and into his lap.

There’s fine pink powder in there and Ethan freezes. Please God, no, don’t let this be what he thinks he is, please please please. But just a couple of seconds later, both of their eyes glued to the showering of pink around Grayson, it turns to a white color and Grayson gasps and clutches his chest.

His panicked eyes meet Ethan’s and Ethan jolts upwards and towards him, his voice strangled, as he asks, “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

Grayson’s breathing has changed and Ethan dives into his bag for his inhaler and throws it to him. Grayson takes a few deep puffs in and shakily says, “How long do I have? Can we call an ambulance? Fuck, fuck!” The shaking of his hands registers distantly but Ethan searches it up and the first thing that comes up is that the potion is called Libidana and it’s a sex drug. The one that it is meant to affect will drive mad with lust (the pink turns to white once it has activated) and they have only fifteen minutes to find someone to have sex with or else they will seize up and fall into a coma after that. “The potion can only affect the person that it is meant for, which in this case looks to be you…” Ethan finishes quietly, still shaking.

Grayson bolts out of his bed and starts pacing, running his hands through his hair and taking off his shirt in a furious move. “I don’t think I’ve got time to wait for the medics to get here or grab someone and ask them if they can put their hand on my dick, E!” Ethan does not want to look down but the sudden, obvious outline of Grayson’s dick is pretty hard to ignore. Ethan tries to muffle his yell with his hands futilely for a few seconds and then starts pacing too.

“What if I send an urgent group text to the crew and ask if someone could come and, and help you out with it? What about Aaron? Or Robbin? Or that sound check girl? There’s got to be a way,” Ethan mutters, and then blurts out, “I need to call mom. Maybe-”

“Don’t!” Grayson shouts then dives at him, trying to throw his phone to the other side of the room. “Don’t fucking scare her like that! We don’t have time for this, bro. What should I do?” Grayson’s chest is turning pink and so is his face, his ears, he’s flushing all over and his hardon actually looks painful. He slumps against the wall and presses down on his dick with his hand, and Ethan thinks he might faint on the spot like some sort of Victorian chick.

He’s basically struck dumb and speechless. He cannot compute, does not want to, since one suggestion is trying to work its way past his lips, but he can’t. They can’t. It’s so fucked up.

Just then he almost does send his phone flying out of his hand when he gets a text message from Robbin asking if they can open the door for him so he can get in and look at their stuff before they all call it a night. Ethan’s eyes suddenly shoot up to Grayson’s face and he slowly approaches him as though Grayson’s some cornered wild animal, palms up. “Gray, hey Gray…” Grayson blinks his teary eyes open to pleadingly look at him and Ethan wants to scream.

“Robbin is just outside the door. I can have him come here and help you out. It’s probably in his contract or something, to help with this. What’s a little bj between friends? Please say yes, dude,” Ethan’s voice shakes out, but he settles his hands on Grayson’s shoulders and Grayson kind of swoons flush against him, his sweaty body and forehead resting against Ethan’s shoulder and making him gasp and seize up. There is no ignoring the ominous object poking him in his belly now pressed this close to each other.

“No, no no no, I can’t… This is too much, it’s too embarrassing, I can’t, don’t make me,” Grayson begs, voice muffled and teary in Ethan’s shirt and his hands squeezing Ethan’s sides sort of desperately. “It’s gotta be you, I’m sorry,” he says a beat later, voice wavering and apologetic, and Ethan’s jaw clenches so tight he thinks he might break his teeth.

Ethan takes a deep breath in and sort of shuffles Grayson to his bed. Grayson goes down like a bag of rocks and starts whining, trying to pull off his sweats and boxers. Ethan spins around and looks at his phone, then at his watch, then at the walls, sort of blankly for a few seconds. At least 5 minutes have passed already. They don’t have long.

Feeling like he’s going to be sick, he texts Robbin that they’re crashing for the night and that he can check everything out in the morning. As he toes off his shoes and smooths down his shirt, sort of like he’s in a dream, the thoughts start assaulting him.

They are going to need decades of therapy after this. Their relationship is done. Ethan might go to jail. Is this considered rape? It might be rape. It’s the end of their channel. Their careers. Oh my God, strangers wanted to rape Grayson. OH MY GOD. Will they ever look at each other again without shame and guilt? He’ll move back home and leave their house to Gray in LA. Ethan’s going to be sick.

He actually presses his hands against his chest, trying to keep his heart from flying out of his throat, but Grayson’s moan drags him out of his stupor and impending panic attack.

At that point everything kind of slows down and speeds up at the same time as he gets on the bed stiffly. As he lays down next to Grayson and reaches out for him, their hands bump against each other because Grayson is already busy trying to get off. His dick is slick and it’s, there’s a lot of jizz. Too much. What the fuck. It’s a lot to take in.

Ethan tries not to look at Grayson at all, but the hurt, wounded sounds he starts making as Ethan slaps his hand away and starts jerking him off, makes him glance quickly at him a few times to make sure he’s not dying. Grayson’s burning to the touch and there’s a fine sheen of sweat all over him.

Grayson is panting loudly, wetly, his hands going all over the place, trying to hold onto something. In the end he grabs Ethan’s wrist in a crushing hold and drags him closer by the neck of his t-shirt. Jolting Ethan and almost bringing him face down on top of Grayson’s chest. Ethan swears and closes his eyes shut tight as Grayson starts grunting and comes, just a few seconds later.

Ethan works him through it robotically and stops when Grayson tries to shy away. Their harsh breaths register to him kind of distantly, and he feels stuck there. He wipes his hand down on the duvet slowly, mind racing but also blank. It’s a strange contrast.

“Okay,” Ethan says quietly, either to himself or Grayson, he doesn’t know. Silence settles around them almost threateningly. He moves to get up and get out of there, get his own room for the night, but Grayson pulls him back by his t-shirt again, sitting up himself, hurried.

“Please, I… I don’t think it’s done. I need more…” It’s too painful to look at his face, but his voice is wrecked, gone. Ethan wants to scoff and say “Are you being fucking for real right now?!” but his words die in his mouth when he does catch a glimpse of Garyson’s dick standing up proud and ready for round 2. The fucking fucker does have a bigger dick than him like this, no question, it’s just bad all around.

Well, fuck fuck fuck. Fuckity Fuck. “Fuck!” Ethan says out loud, for good measure.

“What the fuck, man? How’s that even possible?” Ethan asks, ignoring a million taboos and looking at Grayson accusingly, straight in the eyes. “I don’t know, okay! It just happened by itself!” Grayson shouts back, pulling away and bringing his knees up to his chest, hiding his face and his body. He looks like a ball of misery but at least he appears to be more lucid.

“Shit, okay, okay, um…” Ethan really doesn’t know what to say or do next, but he scoots next to Grayson and puts an arm around his shoulders and kisses the top of his head, feeling like the absolute worst. “I’ve got you, buddy, just… what do you want?” There is some kind of terror in him as he asks, but his overprotectiveness overrides it, and he doesn’t even fight it when Grayson just curls into him, in a hug, his dick hard against Ethan’s thigh and his wet lips bumping Ethan’s, whispering, “I’m so sorry, man. I’m so sorry.”

Ethan bites out, “Shut up, don’t be sorry,” and tries to focus on not losing his shit as he takes Grayson into his hand again and starts stroking him. Grayson’s wet breaths hit him like a truck across his face and when he feels lips trail wetly over his cheek and towards his jaw, Ethan bites down on his own bottom lip to stop himself from reacting. One of Grayson’s hands is on his hips, trying to drag him forward, trying to get friction against his hip, but Ethan tries not to budge and hold firm. Self-preservation taking its sweet ass time to kick in.

This is not happening. This is not hot. His own dick is betraying him in a way that is unholy. He’s going to turn into a monk and move to Tibet after this. Join a monastery.

Grayson kind of continues mouthing at him mindlessly with uncoordinated kisses, ruining Ethan’s life forever, and when Ethan speeds up, the sounds in the room turn absolutely pornographic, until Grayson moans out, “E, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…” And comes all over Ethan’s hand and his lower stomach. He flinches when he feels him shoot off, making even more of a mess.

Grayson then promptly falls on top of Ethan and lets out a relieved breath, crushing Ethan underneath his furnace of a body.

There is so much noise in Ethan’s head that it takes him a few seconds to shove Grayson off of him and onto his back again. He takes his shirt off and cleans himself up, and just sits there. Waiting to see if they’re done. If he can leave.

Not even five minutes after coming his brains out twice in the span of 10 minutes, Grayson’s out like a light, snoring slightly. Face looking peaceful and the misery from before gone.

Just to be sure that he hasn’t fallen into a coma, Ethan pokes him a couple of times, which just makes him snuffle and try to get away from Ethan's hand to continue sleeping. Ethan figures that the least he can do after defiling his brother is wipe him down with a wet cloth and pull fresh boxers on him, so he does. He also turns down the bed and leaves the mess of the duvet on the floor, just covering him with a light blanket - he’s gonna tell the hotel staff to burn that.

He throws his own t-shirt and shorts away in the trash bin too. There is no way that he is taking that back with him. The letter he rips into pieces and flushes all remaining contents down the toilet. He does take a pic and save it as evidence, though, for later.

No thoughts go through his head as he does this, it’s like he’s traumatized. It looks like his dick has lost interest in the proceedings too. Thank God.

He then sits against the headboard - practically glued there - for the next hour, staring into space, as Grayson continues sleeping, tossing and turning, just to make sure that he's okay.

After that, Ethan makes his way to the bathroom sort of numbly and scrubs himself raw in the shower. Trying to shake all of what happened loose in his head and down the drain with all of his memories. It doesn't work, but he doesn't expect it to. The fact that he got hard while he was helping out is so mind-boggling stupid that his brain just short circuits and he puts his face in his hands and stays under the spray frozen for a while.

His fingers and toes are pruny by the time he gets out and gets dressed, and treks towards his bed like a man facing the noose. He avoids looking at Gray and just falls into bed. The trauma must catch up to him because he falls asleep a few minutes later, dead to the world. But not before the thought of cancelling the rest of the tour and taking Grayson to the hospital early in the morning filters through as his last coherent thoughts.

*

The sound of the shower running draws him groggily out of sleep the next morning. A quick glance at Grayson's bed confirms to him that he is still alive and not in any danger of dying again anytime soon.

The heavy dread of what's about to take place sits leaden in his chest as he reaches for his cellphone to check the time and then come up with the right verbiage to text to the crew and their managers about why they will be canceling the tour. They've got to disclose what happened on some level, and come up with a way to not embarrass themselves in the process. The only plan that looks like it can work is that Gray was going to meet up with a girl that night and when he opened up the letter and the potion hit him, luckily enough he had someone with him to help him out.

He gets jerked out of his thoughts when the shower stops. He almost stops breathing and wants to turn back around and pretend he's still sleeping, but he can't. He can't do that to Gray. He’s gotta face the music. But before he does that, he puts the finishing touches on the mass group text he’s going to be sending out after. Trying to sound apologetic but concerned and not like a douche is a hard task, and the words are a jumbled mess in his head.

Grayson comes out of the bathroom with a tank on and shorts and stops when he sees Ethan awake and sitting in bed. He looks concerned but his face is also a little shuttered, it’s little hard to read him. Which should be unfuckingpossible, but here they are.

“Hey,” Ethan says, biting the bullet, and Grayson lets out a sigh and walks towards him and sits down on his bed. “Thank God, I thought you were going to give me the silent treatment,” he says, around a forced chuckle. Which is absurd, because if anyone would be avoiding anyone, it should be Grayson avoiding him. Ethan frowns. “I think you got that the wrong way around, bud. I’m surprised you didn’t pack up your shit and get your own hotel room this morning,” Ethan says honestly, biting at a thumbnail. Grayson looks up at him with a funny look on his face and says, “You’re kidding, right? That was a joke, what you just said.”

This conversation is hurting his head already and they just started talking. “Why the fuck would I joke about this, Gray?” Ethan demands, running both hands through his hair and then kind of hugging his knees to his chest.

It looks like Grayson is going to scooch closer to him but stops when Ethan tracks the movement and leans back suddenly against the headboard. The look that crosses over his face is definitely one of hurt. “Can you please not freak out and break us up?” Grayson asks instead, voice a little hushed, a little hopeful.

A hundred scenarios ran through Ethan’s head since last night, but this one never registered as a possibility. He’s never felt claustrophobic before, but he is feeling a tightness in his chest right now. And anger, definitely anger. He shakes his head and throws the covers back and gets up with more force than necessary. “What the fuck? Are you serious? I just raped you.” Ethan can’t look at Gray as he says this, so stays turned around as he pulls pants on. “You were drugged out of your mind. I, like, ruined your innocence or whatever the fuck.”

“Are you being for real right now, E? You didn’t ruin my anything,” Grayson snaps, getting up too and coming to stand next to him. With his hands on his hips like an angry parent.

Ethan pushes him back and shouts, “I did! I took away like some purity in you or something. It’s fucking sick and nasty, man. Why are you being so weird about this?” Grayson’s frown morphs into a little smile. “My purity, E?”

“Yes!” Ethan shouts again, and moves away from him to get more distance again.

“Calm down, bro, you only popped my twincest cherry. You’re being so extra right now,” Grayson says dismissively and Ethan must have some crazy look on his face when he spins around to face him again, dumbstruck, because all humor drops from Grayson’s face just like that. He’s serious and clenching his jaw.

Ethan cannot compute any of this. “I can’t believe you right now. I need to get out of here.”

Grayson reaches out to him as Ethan tries leaving, and says, “Look, how can I hate you when you saved my life? That’s what you did, Ethan. Saved my life and stopped a bunch of randos from, like, taking advantage of me and having their pervy way with me.”

“Maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t make it any better,” Ethan bites out, arms crossed over his chest, and feeling like he might cry. “No it doesn’t,” Grayson agrees, and places a tentative arm around his waist to hug him sideways. “Don’t be like this. I don’t want you to feel bad. I was more of an asshole for throwing myself at you than you were.”

Ethan lets him hug him and tries to contain his anger and hurt, but it’s hard. It’s so exhausting. Maybe they can get passed this. “Okay, let’s just… put this aside for now and call the team here for a meeting.”

“For what?” Grayson asks, a little apprehensively.

“We’re packing our shit up and going home.”

*

Grayson argues with him and tries to talk him out of it, but it doesn’t work.

The tour gets canceled, they send out apologies to the fans, and their management spins their story to news outlets. They get more sympathy than vitriol, which is a win that Ethan will take any day. They take Grayson to the ER to get him checked out after and he’s fine, it’s out of his system. They decide not to press charges and it wraps up as cleanly as possible. The fans’ reactions are intense - some start a witch hunt to find the girls that gave them the letter, while others rage over the supposed girl that Gray slept with. It’s nuts. No middle ground.

Their mom and Cameron come to stay with them in LA for a couple of days and baby them, and Grayson eats it all up.

Ethan keeps looking for him to crack, but he doesn’t. Grayson doesn’t do anything different, same old same old. Mostly.

There’s a look there, though, that Ethan doesn’t know what to think about. It’s a little secretive, a little hidden, almost like Grayson is caught off guard when he looks at him sometimes, surprised. Ethan keeps waiting for him to blow up and bite his head off, but it never comes.

It sets him on edge for the next two weeks, making him nervous.

They’ll get passed this, though, he has to tell himself. Has to believe. He doesn’t know what life is like without Grayson (if it even has any meaning), and while that’s cheesy as fuck, he never wants to find out either.


	2. Chapter 2

*

 

Part 2

 

They accidentally came close to kissing once before for a video, and actually did kiss when they were fifteen.

Ethan was a nervous wreck for a date he was going to go on that night, and Grayson was no help in calming down his nerves.

"I've got no moves, Gray, this is going to be so embarrassing. I should cancel," Ethan was whining into his bent arm, face smooshed against it on the couch. He wanted to hide.

Grayson flopped down on top of him, and started tickling him. "You'll be fine, stop worrying." Ethan bucked him off when he felt him pinch his nipples. "Gray! Don't be a douche."

That got nothing from Grayson, who then flopped down next to him and started flipping through the tv channels. "What are you so scared of anyway? It's a first date, man."

Ethan glared at him pointedly. "I don't go making out with every chick that I come across. I haven't kissed a girl in like, six months. Didn't have much experience anyway." He sighed, head thumping down onto the arm rest. "You don't get it, hotshot."

Grayson shot a pitying look at him, and sat up, legs crossed and facing him. "Bro, this is stupid. I can help you, if you don't freak out." That didn't make sense.

"How?" Ethan asked, curious. "They can tell us apart, man."

"Not that, dumbass. I, being the amazing best friend and brother that I am, will teach you a thing or two, if you let me.” 

"What? You mean kiss me?" Ethan asked in disbelief, hoping he'd heard wrong, but Grayson only nodded in determination and said, "Yup."

Out of the two of them, Grayson was the one that sometimes forgot that there were lines that could get crossed, and no matter how tight they were and how much they loved each other, it didn't mean that they shouldn't act like normal people. "Bro, first of all, you're insane. And second of all, no thanks. I'd rather make a fool of myself." Grayson chuckled and said, "Your loss, man."

Ethan sighed noisily and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes closed and trying to ignore his impending doom.

He jolted when he felt lips press against his and his eyes snapped open. One part of him was shocked at Grayson's audacity while a quieter part wanted him to give it a go and learn a few things. In the end he ultimately pushed Grayson away after two seconds and yelled "Bitchass! You're sick!" and chased after Grayson, who was cackling madly like a hyena.

They ended up wrestling on the floor, tears of laughter streaming down Grayson's face, as he wheezed out, "Your face! Man, you should have seen _your face_."

Ethan slapped him around for good measure and then forgot all about it the next day.

 

*

 

For a short time, they try to go back to normal and kind of put the entire thing aside as some crazy, unfortunate mess of a situation that happened. There is no going back to change anything, it's in the past.

Gray says, "Dude, it sucks, but it is what it is," and Ethan readily agrees. 

They kind of chill out a bit and turn to the drawing board to come up with new content. They actually experience a spike in subscribers after that shit show fiasco, which is a nice surprise, because Ethan was pretty sure that they would lose followers for canceling and bailing on the shows. They hang out with James, Emma, and even Jeffree, trying to brainstorm new content. 

It's fun, and it takes Ethan's mind off of his less savory thoughts. One of the things they start planning to shoot for is a cooking face-off between Grayson and him, with James and Emma as the guest judges. They've got a good feeling about that one, and might even make it regular content. People love that kind of competitive cooking show shit. Grayson is next level excited for it.

It's all good stuff, because it helps occupy Ethan's mind and thoughts for most of the day. The only time their indiscretion rears its ugly head is when Grayson will try to mess with him, play with him like they used to.

He'll have his arms around Ethan's shoulders from behind, pressing him against Gray's chest and whisper breathily into his ear, "Baby, don't leave me," for the take and Ethan will freeze up and snap, "Grayson." Gray will pull back instantly, looking a little surprised, guilty, and wounded, and they'll retake the shot.

They’ll take a break, both of them drifting to different parts of the house for ten minutes before joining up to shoot again. Ethan can't tell if his frustration with Grayson is because he's not being careful the way that Ethan is with him, or because he's pushing Ethan to react. Like he's looking for something.

He doesn't stop being handsy, which was never a problem before they fucking a toed a line that they never should have. Maybe Ethan was wrong all along. Grayson's not the one who's going to crack, it's him. 

So much for not getting weird about it.

Ethan doesn’t tell him that his dreams have gotten really weird and fucked up since the incident. Evidently his subconscious mind is tired of him trying to ignore his memories of the event and starts blasting him with snapshots when he’s sleeping. 

Ethan wakes up wide-eyed and hard twice during the week, and just stays in bed, dick untouched. Torturing himself.

 

*

 

They get invited to a party on Saturday and Ethan is kind of vibrating out of his skin and looking to get black-out drunk. He’s only gotten drunk once before, and that’s a couple of days after his dad’s death. Not one of his finer moments. 

It’s a terrible idea and he’ll really regret it the next morning, but there is this itch he can’t scratch. If he can’t ignore it away, then he’s going to numb it away with alcohol. 

He hasn’t really allowed himself to name what it is that’s driving him up the wall, because it feels like he might burst if he does. Like, completely shatter apart.

Grayson seems to be in a similar state of mind because he’s kind of quiet for most of the day. They don’t talk much and stick to their own rooms and spaces.

When Uber comes to pick them up, Grayson is wearing a very loud, very choice outfit. The buttons of his white shirt are almost open down to his navel and his pants are glued on. Leather jacket hugging his biceps. His Gucci sneakers a loud yellow color. On anyone else in the world, this get-up would be utterly cringe-worthy, but it somehow works on Gray.

It’s obvious he’s looking to pull. Ethan looks away in the car as they get in. They make some small talk, both of them on their phones mostly. It’s all very surreal.

Once they get to the house, they split up again. Ethan makes good on his promise to get drunk and grabs a beer as soon as he’s seated. He’s chatting with the guys, having a good time, and a couple of times he sees Gray across the room doing the same, until he’s not there anymore. Until he’s pushed against the wall and is making out with some girl. That’s fine. That’s good. Back to the usual, then.

It’s almost crazy that even in a room full of people, he can’t lose sight of Grayson. Grayson also catches his eyes a few times, making him look away. It makes him feel trapped so he surprises himself by peacing out only two hours later. 

He’s only three beers in and doesn’t feel nearly as shitfaced as he was anticipating, which is a win. He thinks about telling Gray that he’s leaving, about pulling him away for a second from the hot blonde who’s permanently been occupying his lap since they got there, but decides against it. 

He texts him as the Uber pulls away. It’s not petty, it’s just that he can really use some space to himself. Grayson texts, “The fuck? You left without me?” Ethan doesn’t bother with a response. It’s all for show, anyway. Grayson wasn’t coming home tonight.

Silence greets him when he gets home and he immediately goes to the fridge to grab another beer, feeling hot and sweaty because of the summer heat sticking to his skin. He takes off his clothes leisurely as he approaches the pool and actually moans when he gets in, the water cool against his skin. No boxers, no nothing. 

Just him out here and open the sky. From his shoulders down to his toes, he starts unwinding, starts breathing deep again. Looking up at the massive expanse of the sky with his head tilted up, his problems start feeling kind of silly. He giggles as he takes another sip, beer dangling from his fingers. It’s nice out here. It’s nice to be able to come to terms with things without a shadow pressing into him from the side at all times.

At this point it’s obvious that he might need a therapist or some shit to help him figure out the chaos of thoughts in his head. He just hopes that they don’t judge him too hardcore when he spills his guts out. They’re not supposed to, right? He’ll ask his manager to look for someone in the morning. The quicker he takes care of this, the better.

The beer bottle accidentally slips from his fingers at some point and spills into the pool and he laughs, doesn’t give a single fuck. His chill vibes are cut short when he hears a car door close and then the house door open. “Fuck,” Ethan mutters underneath his breath.

He’s fucking naked as the day he was born, is a literal and metaphorical mess, and Grayson will not let him have this moment to fall apart on his own terms. Fucking rude. He dunks his head down into water for a few seconds to help bring clarity before he resumes his previous position at the side of the pool.

Whatever. He doesn’t bother getting up, just continues sitting there, leaning against the wall, arms up on the lip of the pool, eyes closed. When he hears the glass door open and footsteps make their way close, Ethan groans out, “I cannot deal with you right now, please go.” 

Obviously Grayson doesn’t do as he’s told and starts chuckling. “You look like a mess,” he says happily, voice low. Ethan opens his eyes up reluctantly and sees Grayson standing two feet away from him, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, not looking away - stance kind of loose in a way that’s super fake. He’s flushed, eyes a little glassy but alert. Whether from drinks or the heat or fucking, Ethan doesn’t know. Probably all three. He’s also lost his fuckboy jacket somewhere. 

Since his dick has been problematic recently, Ethan turns around to cover himself and leans his chin on his crossed arms, chest against the wall, looking up. “Stop staring, you rude asshole,” Ethan demands petulantly, not too sober. Glaring up at him.

Grayson gets down on his knees, his ridiculous shirt gaping open and leans towards him, his eyebrows pulled low, eyes in slits, and taunts, “What’ll you do if I don’t, huh?” Unfortunately he looks good all pissy, his face flushed, lips red from his makeout sess, hair swooping over his forehead in a messy wave, and Ethan has had enough of his shit. 

Ethan’s coordination is off but he still tries to shove Grayson onto his ass by pushing at his shoulders. It almost works, but Grayson throws an arm back and barely manages to catch himself, straightening back up to stand. His glare is entirely dramatic as he wipes down invisible dirt from his pants and scoffs out, “You’re a big fucking baby, you know that?”

He grabs a chair and comes back and sits on it with the back against his chest and his forearms propped on it, scowling at him. Ethan yells out “Jesus!” and is about to get out and leave with what little dignity he’s got, when Grayson says in a singsong voice, a smirk playing on his lips, “So, hey, chickenshit, how about we play a game of truth or dare. If you play, I’ll leave you alone for 24 hours so that you can have your meltdown and cry into your pillow like you want to. I promise. You in?” Fuck, that is definitely tempting. Anything to get some space to himself.

“Fuck you,” Ethan says automatically, now totally feeling his buzz dying down in the face of all of this drama. He hoists himself out of the pool and gets as close to Grayson as he can to shake himself, send water flying, and dares Grayson to look away from the dick close to his face, but he doesn’t. He just smirks up at Ethan widely like Ethan is being hilarious. Like this isn’t fucking wrong and incesty. 

Fine. He marches to the bin and grabs a towel to run through his hair and down his body and then wrap around his waist. This is not how Ethan imagined his night going, but here they are. He flops down in the chair that he brings over close to Gray’s and sits down. He doesn’t think the fucker has looked away once. Absurdly enough Garyson’s smiling now, cheek pressed into the v of his arm, pleased with himself, probably. 

“I go first,” Gray states, and Ethan shrugs his shoulders, because he doesn’t care. “So, truth or dare?” There is absolutely no way that Ethan is going to pick dare in a towel and nothing else, so he bites out, “Truth.” He hates the little way that Gray’s face lights up, shit. He probably planned for that.  “I don’t think I need to remind you that if I feel like you’re lying, you forfeit your turn.” 

Ethan blows out a breath and says, “Oh my God, I know, those were my rules, asswipe,” and then leans back into a stretch, shoulders popping, before settling in with a slouch and crossed arms, scowling. Grayson’s eyes jump up to meet his, since he was definitely looking somewhere south of the border. The smirk on his face irks Ethan and he frowns in return and hopes he’s not blushing too much. Jesus. So blatant. It’s not like Ethan’s suddenly grown a vagina and boobs. 

“Okay, great,” Grayson says and drags his chair closer to Ethan’s, parking right next to his knee. Gray bites down at his bottom lip, looking like he’s concentrating, drumming his fingers against the back of the chair, before he stops, looking pleased with himself, and asks, “On a scale of 1-10, how horny do you get when you think of what happened?”

Ethan’s breath whooses out in a rush, and before he can control himself, his anger, Ethan barks out, “Grayson! What the hell is wrong with you?! Why do you think this is funny?” Grayson leans away from him quick and his face goes a little shocky, a little pale, his grin disappearing in a flash. Ethan doesn’t realize he’s leaning forward in his seat, body rigid and coiled tight, until the passing sound of a bird over their heads jolts him back in his chair.

Grayson seems to be frozen for a few seconds, mute, but then drops his face into his hands, mutters, “Fuck, I’m sorry,” and then gets up and sprints back to the house. Leaving Ethan feeling hollow and shellshocked.

It takes him some time to head back into the house after that, Ethan feeling like his head is floating somewhere up in space and not quite on his shoulders. He takes a shower in a daze and a latent hurt kicks in so hard at that point that he has to brace himself almost, not to sink to his knees. 

Grayson means to world to him. Grayson is his rock. His everything. What does he have if he doesn’t have Grayson? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s not even worth contemplating a life and a world where they aren’t in each other’s pockets. No point at all.

The dreamlike quality continues as he goes to bed. It takes him an hour to come to terms with the fact that he will not be sleeping, not for awhile, and instead of getting up and editing their new video or going out for a drive, his treacherous feet lead him to Grayson’s room.

Before he can think better of it or change his mind, he opens the door and heads inside, noting that Grayson doesn’t seem to be asleep since he drops the forearm covering his face and his eyes open into weary slits. They look at each other for a bit and Ethan asks, “Can I come in?” Feeling his voice lodged somewhere in his throat, a little shaky.

Grayson lets out a whoosh of air, closing his eyes and answers quietly, “Yeah.”

Ethan closes the door behind him and traps the room in darkness again. He’s not brave enough to turn on the lights as he slowly gets into bed with Grayson and Grayson moves over after a pause, maybe trying to shake his shock off.

They stay silent and almost shoulder to shoulder a few minutes, the tension in the air lessening the more they allow for their walls to come down.

“I am sorry, E,” Grayson whispers into the dark, voice low and filled with regret. Nothing in the world can make him immune to Grayson’s pain, even for a second. Ethan sighs and turns in bed, head pillowed on his bent arm and tries to make him out in the dark.

Grayson is lost to him in the shadows, but the light coming from the moon just brushes the tip of his nose, his hair, and his eyes when he glances at Ethan. His eyes shine in the dark, with tears born of shame or fear, Ethan doesn’t know.

All that Ethan can do is rest his hand on Grayson’s chest, over his thundering heart, and just try to anchor him, calm him down. Before he has an asthma attack or runs off.

A breath shudders out of Grayson and the next thing Ethan knows, Gray turns in bed to face him, the space between them only a foot apart. Ethan’s arm slides down to his waist and he doesn’t remove it. 

“This is fucked up,” Grayson continues, haltingly, his open hand flexing on the sheet between them, spasmodically. “I know it’s wrong, but your love feels like the only love that I have ever known. And will ever know. I can’t imagine loving someone or knowing someone the way that I love and know you. I can’t imagine a time where I will not reach out for you and find you there. It’s so fucking terrifying.” His voice is filled with tears near the end of his confession. Ethan feels his eyes water too.

Ethan wishes that his confession surprised him, he really does, but none of it is new. He gathers his courage and cups the back of Grayon’s neck, brings him closer so he can kiss his forehead. Grayson just melts into him and hugs him in return, their physical boundaries always nonexistent, always more of a suggestion than anything else.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person yet, Gray. We’re fucking young still, man. Give it more time,” Ethan tries to say coaxingly, but Grayson still huffs and pulls back, his eyebrows scrunched down. “Don’t patronize me, E. I’m not a kid. I know how I feel,” Grayson says, and after a pause, “I’ve felt this way for three years.”

His mouth purses up and he tries to put distance between them, pull back, but Ethan doesn’t let him, grips tighter to back of his neck, his thumb brushing his ear. That makes Grayson pause in his attempt to turn over and sighs, going still, arm still wrapped loosely around Ethan’s waist. Ethan is selfish too, but doesn’t have to show it too often, since Grayson is always right there, by his side.

“That’s why I’ve been trying so hard to become independent and like, move away from you, at some point. I know that’s healthier. I never wanted to fuck things up between us, and thought that if I just, like, matured faster and became a man, I would be able to deal with this better. I could get my own place, have a girlfriend, meet up with you twice a week or something to shoot our vids,” Grayson finishes, sounding tired. Like this is something that he’s tried, time and time again, and it’s failed him. “And it didn’t work,” Gray confesses sadly.

There are so many things that Ethan wants to say too, to articulate the way that Grayson just did, but he doesn’t know how to. He hasn’t had long to mull this over, since his primary goal was to play at ignorance and avoidance whenever the subject even crossed his mind.

He does know one thing for sure, though. He’s always suspected that every girl in his life is going to be trying to fill a Grayson-sized hole in him, and they will never be able to. It isn’t fair to them. It’s an impossible task. He’s known it as a fact.

He’s known it in a way that has always been less terrifying and more just really shit luck. The love of your life is your brother. That’s just all kinds of a raw deal and a fuck you from the universe, basically.

Ethan had accepted it and had planned to find a nice girl, one that would find their twin neediness more adorable than a handicap. So far that had not happened. It wore out real quick, when each time he got serious with a girl, that he’d much rather leave her and go to Grayson, to run laps in the pool with him, dirt bike with him, plan stupid shit with him. Be with him. He was going to take this knowledge to his grave, basically, but here they are. 

Ethan clears out his throat and cups Grayson’s jaw, butts their foreheads together. That brings a small smile to Grayson’s lips, and before Ethan can think about it, he closes the scant distance between them and kisses him lightly. Grayson freezes stock still, and turns his head away into the bed, whispers out a pained, “Don’t play with me, man,” and Ethan blurts out a, “I’m not, I’m not. Promise,” and drags Grayson into his arms again, as he falls on his back on the bed. 

Grayson is lax in his arms, and driven purely by fear, Ethan drops kisses on his head, on his cheeks and clings to him. He’s clinging to Grayson’s arm across his chest and has his other one fisted in the back of Grayson’s shirt. 

Before he can like, panic completely, he rushes out, “Whatever you said just now. Like, ditto. Same.”

That gets a snort from Grayson and he starts laughing. His eyes are judging Ethan hardcore when Ethan dares to look at him. 

“Bro, you so suck at this,” Gray says, and Ethan readily agrees. “I do, you’re better at being for real.” This brings a small, pleased, shy smile to Grayson’s face, and he all but squeezes Ethan to him. Ethan snorts now. “Cute,” he comments, and Grayson says, “I know.”

They fall asleep in Grayson’s bed that night. And if Ethan was as corny as Grayson was, as prone to bursts of romantic feelings, he’d say that that night was the most special night of his life. The way that he felt understood surpassed anything he has ever felt before. That connection is the stuff that they talk about in fairy tales, he thinks.

They wake up in the morning and bump hips at the kitchen, as Grayson makes pancakes and Ethan pretends to help. 

When Grayson leans in for a kiss after breakfast, his eyes bright and anticipatory, Ethan melts into his embrace.

It feels like a beginning. Like the rest of his life.

  
  
End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dudes, I hope you enjoyed this! I lost the muse 60% of the way through it but managed to finish. It was tough, but here we are. :)


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